Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Viktor

" T he numbers look good, but you should sell House of Beauty. There's no point in keeping it." John tells me as he goes through my portfolio.

"I already told you I'm not selling, so stop asking. In fact, I want to sign the company over to Ava O'Brien. Make the arrangement."

"Are you sure? It's worth a lot of money, Mr. Manarch."

"Your job is to do what I order. Stop asking the same question," I say between clenched teeth. I take a deep breath to calm my anger. "How are you doing with the other matter?"

"Your wife won't get a penny from anything earnt prior to the marriage. The prenup is ironclad. She won't have access to any of your businesses."

"Good. That will be all." I dismiss him, not wanting to encourage any more questions. I hate being questioned.

"You need to stop taking your frustration out on people. Everyone is walking on eggshells," Oliver says as John leaves. I had forgotten he was here.

"You aren't," I growl. Lately, Oliver has been lecturing, and it's annoying the shit out of me.

"Because I'm not afraid of you. I can still kick your ass," he says, trying to lessen the tension.

"Like you ever did." The thought makes me chuckle. I know he's trying to keep me grounded.

"But I can connect a few punches before going down."

"When we were kids, maybe. That was a lifetime ago."

"Seriously, Viktor, the men are on edge. You haven't been around, and when you are, they steer clear, afraid to anger you."

I expect my men not to cross me. I'm their boss, not their friend. But I'm not my father, and I won't rule my clan with fear.

"You're right. Close Eros for a private party. Let the men blow off steam. Put on an open bar and get women of all shades and walks of life."

"They'll appreciate that—" He's interrupted mid-sentence by the ring of his cell. He looks at the screen, and I see a trace of panic on his face. "I have to take this," he says, standing and leaving the office.

It isn't like him not to take a call in my presence. Whatever it is, he doesn't want me to know. Could it be Ava? From the door, he's pacing and barking at whoever is on the other end. He ends the call and tries to compose himself before reentering my office, but it's clear something isn't right.

"Everything ok?"

"I'll make the calls and let you know the details for the party. Call me if you need anything." He turns to leave.

"What the fuck was that call about?"

"It's a personal matter."

"Oliver—"

"It's not Manarch related. I have to take care of something." He leaves, not letting me add anything else.

"What are you up to, Oliver?" I yell after him.

He doesn't reply.

Oliver hasn't contacted me for hours. Normally I would see it as a good sign. It means everything is running smoothly. But there was something on his face earlier that unsettled me. Like he was hiding something from me. We don't keep secrets. He's my right hand. My best friend. Shit, my brother. I can't shake the feeling it isn't good. It has to be Ava. What else would make him keep something from me? I decide to text him. I need to get to the bottom of this.

Viktor: Everything ready for the party?

He takes a few minutes to answer.

Oliver: Wrapping things up. I'll give you the details tonight.

Viktor: Where are you?

Twenty minutes later, and still no answer. He's hiding something big. The question is, what? Did my father make another decision affecting the future of the clan? More fights? I don't like not knowing. It makes me feel out of control. I'm the boss and I need to know everything.

"Becky," I call my PA.

"Mr. Manarch, how can I help?"

"Cancel the rest of my afternoon." I exit the office.

Lately, I've been spending more time at Manarch Industries. If I can't fully protect my clan, at least I'll protect my future. But that is the least of my worries. Fiona is making my life miserable, and my father's indifference is costing me a fortune. And now Oliver is keeping something from me.

My cell rings and the screen reads Mom.

"Hi, Mom."

"Hi, sweetheart. It's been some time since I've seen you."

"I know. I've been busy."

"Except we both know that's not the reason. You've been avoiding me." She knows me well. "Do you have time for a late lunch?"

"Always." Maybe time with her is what I need, a distraction from everything, but it's not true.

"Meet me at Treehouse Bistro. I should be there in twenty minutes."

"I'll see you soon," I promise her.

I've been avoiding my mother. I try to stay away from anything that reminds me of Ava. But it's a daunting task. It doesn't matter how hard I try because everything reminds me of Ava. She consumes my every thought.

Pulling up to the restaurant, I don't see many cars so hopefully, it will be quiet. This isn't the kind of place I usually visit, but my mother likes it. Inside, I'm led to a table where she's already waiting.

"Mom," I greet her, giving her a hug.

"Sweetheart, thanks for coming." We sit. "How are you? You look skinny. Are you not eating?"

"I'm fine." I sit.

"Anything to drink?" a server asks.

"Scotch, neat."

"Do you know what you would like to eat, sir?"

"Just the drink."

"He'll have the special," Mom advises, fixing me with a steely glare.

"Very well." The server leaves.

"I'm not in the mood to eat," I tell my mother.

"Tough luck." She smiles. "How are you doing?" She asks with a serious tone.

"Busy with work."

"How's Fiona and the baby?"

"Fine." The server returns with my drink.

"I want more than fine. One-word answers will not work for me."

I look at her. "That's all I've got." I take a sip of my drink.

"You can't continue on this path. It isn't healthy for you."

"What path is that?"

"You've isolated yourself more than usual since she left."

"I've been busy." We both know it's another lie.

I have isolated myself since Ava's departure.

"Viktor, I miss her too. But you have to think about Fiona and the baby."

"My priority is my child. I'll do what is within my power to see that Fiona gets what she needs."

"That is not what I said."

"Ava is gone. She left me. I've moved on. You should do the same."

But again, that's not true. I'm not capable of moving on. I love Ava more today than when she walked into the restaurant the first time I saw her. I just want to be left alone and not reminded of what I already know. She's gone, and needs to remain gone that until Fiona gives birth.

"Viktor—"

"Let it go, Mom. Let's enjoy lunch," I say firmly, draining my drink and asking the server for another.